


Death(claw) of a Bachelor

by LillySteam44



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, I promise Deacon gets a HEA, I'd like to thank one Fallout discord for helping shape the plot, I've been working on this for too long, and another Fallout discord for helping me finish the damn chapter, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillySteam44/pseuds/LillySteam44
Summary: Deacon loves Charmer, his partner, his best friend. He's pretty content to hide just how much he wants her, except Charmer might just want him too. When emotions run high, can he actually keep everything he wants?





	1. In Which Deacon Feel An Emotion

Deacon loved Charmer. He had known for a while, at least since she took that stupid teleporter. She disappeared and everyone thought she had died and he had to put a strike through her name on the list of agents on the blackboard at HQ, all while a weight sat on his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. Then she’d come back and made it her personal mission to take down the Institute. He made certain he was with her every single possible step of the way, up until the point they stormed the gates, figuratively speaking. Now he didn't know what to do. It was too dangerous to tell her; it would end up just like Barbara. He'd only bring ruin. So he just watched her as subtly as possible as she flitted around Sanctuary, typical Charmer was more concerned with making sure the various companions she had gathered over time were having fun rather than celebrating her own victory.

Eventually, after a short discussion with Preston, Charmer pouted, the kind she used when she was annoyed, but not properly mad. She stopped trying to top up drinks and ease conversations and instead brought a chair over to sit next to Deacon.

“What's wrong?” He kept his tone even as she leaned her head on his shoulder and continued to pout like a child.

“Preston says I need to relax and sit down for a while,” she said. “I’ll let him clean up the mess when Hancock tries to offer Danse jet again.”

“As funny as that will be to see, you know he’s right. This is your celebration; wouldn’t do to have the girl of the hour playing host,” he told her. She snorted out a laugh and didn’t respond at first, but he could tell she’d stopped pouting at least. 

“Some days I’m sure your code name should have been Charmer instead,” she said after a moment. “You’re such a flatterer, but I’m not that special. This isn’t for me, it’s for you. All of you guys.”

“Without you-” he started, but she shook her head.

“No matter what I did, I couldn't have done it all without help,” she said. “You, Mac, and Nick especially, but all the friends I've made since waking up helped me so much.”

A silence lapsed when Deacon didn't know what to say and Charmer seemed content with her place on his shoulder. He wasn't exactly in a hurry to get up either, so he wound an arm around her back and rested his hand on her hip. 

“Dee?”

“Yeah, Charm?” He tried not to think about how close she was, even as he felt the gentle warmth of her breath on his neck. He tried not to think about exactly how much he wanted, how easy it would be to just turn his head and kiss her.

“I think I'd like to go. I'm a little partied out,” she said. “Will you walk me home?”

There was something in her voice, a deep quality that sent a shiver of something down his spine. He tried to rationalize it away, tried to convince himself Charmer wasn't really flirting with him. Of course, they had always shameless flirted with one another, a running joke since the day they cleared Switchboard that had yet to grow old, but this felt so much less like a joke. He knew he loved her, but the idea she might like him back nearly shorted out his brain. He had always thought Charmer liked men like Danse, like her late husband, the buff soldier type that could probably bench press her. 

“Course I'll walk you home,” he said. He hoped he sounded like he normally did, and not like she was affecting him as deeply as she was. “Need to say goodnight to anyone?”

She shook her head and stayed still just a moment before rising. He tried to move his hand so she could get up a little easier, but she grabbed onto his hand with her own, lacing their fingers together. He let her help him to his feet and waited for her to let go, but Charmer held onto his hand as if it were the most casual thing in the world. Perhaps it was, they had played the loving newlywed couple while undercover in Covenant and she had just gotten used to it. Her house, the pale blue one in the middle of Sanctuary, wasn't too far and Deacon tried not to think about what would happen when they reached her front door. He hoped he was right just as much as he hoped he was wrong.

He was almost too caught up in his head to notice when they finally did reach her door. His hand was still curled around hers and that kept him tied to reality. When she stopped, he did too. She turned towards him, her hand still in his, and looked up with her warm gray eyes. She licked at her bottom lip as she let go of his hand and lightly drew her touch up his arm.

“Can I,” she paused as if she had to force the words out, “can I kiss you?”

Deacon's mind went blank as he tried to process what she said. It didn't make sense, but the longer he was quiet, the more nervous she became. Eventually, she pulled her hand from his bicep and started to make excuses. The loss of contact was enough to jump-start his brain at least a little. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving entirely.

“Yeah,” he finally managed. His voice cracked but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He couldn't be sure which of them closed the gap, but her lips were on his and he couldn't get close enough to her. Part of his mind was aware of her hands starting to snake under the hem of his shirt just as his hand came up to cup her breast through her dress. The whimper that came from the back of her throat went straight to his cock, and it was enough to bring back a semblance of rational thought. He broke away despite the adorable noise Charmer made in protest.

“We should, um,” he tried, as he still struggled to think clearly, “inside.”

“Right,” she agreed. She had the door open quickly and pulled him inside the house. He got what felt like a single breath of fresh air before Nora closed the door behind them and pushed him up against a nearby wall. She leaned in and he let out a strangled groan at the contact, her lips on his neck, her hands on his shoulders holding him in place, it was almost too much. There was a rumble of a laugh in her throat.

“Shaun’s staying with Duncan for the night. You don’t have to be quiet,” she said. Her lips brushed against his ear and he had a difficult time understanding the content of her words. Shaun’s name lifted a red flag in the back of his head, a reminder that Charmer wasn’t just Agent Charmer anymore, but Nora, mother to a young child, but all of that went quiet when she gently tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.

He growled and in a swift motion, lifted her, his hands cupping her ass, and turned to press her against the wall instead. Charmer wrapped her legs around his waist as he returned to kissing her lips. She pulled at the bottom of his shirt and, as much as he wanted to feel her skin on his, he couldn’t bring himself to part from her again long enough to lift the collar over his head. He shifted one of his hands to slide under her dress. He expected to feel the cotton, or if he was lucky lace, of her panties, but the only felt skin and then the heat of her arousal. He ghosted a touch over her slit, already so wet just for him. She’d left his shirt for the moment and dug her nails into his shoulders.

“Deacon, please,” she gasped out. He found he rather liked her begging.

“Please, what?” he said as he repeated the motion. She shivered and let out a choked moan as some form of a reply. An evil little smile played on his lips as he leaned over her. He shifted her slightly so he held her weight by his hip and the hand not busy pulling those sweet sounds from her. He wasn’t a teenager anymore and, eventually, his back would demand they relocate to a bed, but he would see this part through. 

“You’ve thought about this all night,” he added, whispered so close to her ear, “so tell me what you’ve thought about, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” she breathed on the back of a moan, “please.” With that, he pushed a finger into her. Her nails bit deeper as she let out the most delicious mewling noise as he moved in and out of her. She exposed her throat, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall, so he attached his mouth to that spot where her neck and shoulder met and sucked on her skin. There was a part of him that he couldn’t control at the moment that needed to leave a mark, the kind that would stay for days. He added another finger when she started to grind up against his hip. She only needed a bit longer, but he was impatient and needed to know exactly what sort of noise Charmer would make as she tipped over the edge. His lips let go of the skin on her neck with a pop and he laved his tongue over the spot.

“Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Just like you hoped when you left the house with no panties.”

As it turned out, Charmer made no noise when she came. It was like she forgot to even breath as she clenched around his hand and rocked against him. She stayed like that, eyes closed tight and mouth thrown open silently, for a long while until a shiver pulled through her. A tiny gasp told him that she started to breathe again and she stopped rubbing against him. She no longer dug her nails into him, but she still clutched at him and laid her forehead on his shoulder. 

“Fuck, Dee, that was-” she said until an aftershock ran through her.

“Wonderful? Amazing? The best you've ever had?” he offered. He pressed a kiss to her temple. He shifted his hips back so she could stand on her own, but held her steady until she had more control back.

“All of the above,” she agreed and pressed her own light kiss to his neck. “And just the beginning.”

“Bed?” he suggested, even as one of his hands still rubbed gentle, soothing circles on her outer thigh, just under her dress. Her skin was so soft and perfect that he had a hard time justifying letting go.

“Definitely.” With a little difficulty on both parts, Deacon took his hands off her and stepped back while Charmer got her feet under her and wobbled down the hall towards her bedroom. The clean queen sized mattress with a shiny wooden frame in the middle of her room was a decadent luxury that he hadn't seen before anywhere in the Commonwealth, but it paled in comparison to the view Deacon had as Charmer took the hem of her dress and pulled it upwards over her head.

Just her silhouette, the lines of her body emphasized by the dim street light outside the window, was beautiful. He hesitated in the doorway, afraid to touch her, afraid that he had already damned them, damned her, for taking what he already had. Charmer had to have noticed his nerves, because she came back over to him and kissed him gently. He let her take his shirt off, like she had attempted earlier, and he was caught in momentary indecision about whether he would let her take his sunglasses too, but she never reached for them, never asked. Instead, her hands went to his bare chest, drawing down his abs towards the fly of his jeans and he was suddenly very aware that Charmer was very naked in front of him.

He kissed her lips again and gathered both her wrists in one of his own before she could get more than the button of his jeans. He liked the tiny noise she made against his mouth, noises that grew louder when he used his free hand to tug at one of her nipples and louder still when he broke the kiss to tug at an earlobe with his teeth.

“I'm going to let you go and you're going to lay back on the bed all pretty for me,” he told her softly. She audibly swallowed and nodded. He allowed himself to be tempted into another love bite, next to the one he'd already left, and finally let go of her wrists and took a half step back. She followed his order quickly and Deacon allowed himself just a moment of just taking in the sight of her, spread out for him. He knelt over her and ran a hand up her side to her breast. The little moan he drew from her when he brushed his thumb over her nipple spurred his hips down and she was eager to grind up against his jean covered cock. It was almost enough to push him to unzip them the rest of the way so he could take her, but he kept himself under control. It had been too long and Charmer was just too perfect; he wouldn’t last long and he needed to make her feel good now, before he could think clearly and lost his nerve.

“Please, Deacon,” she begged. He could feel the heat of her through his jeans, all of it causing his cock to twitch. “Please fuck me. Please, please Deacon.” It was like she was chanting a prayer. He leaned down to kiss her neck.

“Like this?” he whispered as he pushed two fingers into her again. She was soaked enough that there was no resistance. He was so sorely tempted to add a third, but held off for the moment. She made a small noise of protest despite her hips bucking up to meet his thrusting fingers. He paused and let her just grind against his hand.

“Your cock,” she finally managed. Her eyes were closed; her head thrown back. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he growled as he began thrusting his hand again. He kissed down her chest, stopping to swirl his tongue around her nipple, and further. All of her begging and little moans stopped when he finally ran his tongue over her clit. A gasp ran through her when he did it again. He repeated motion once again, slower and harder, just to see what it would do to her. Her hands flew to his head, pushing him further to her as her hips pushed up.

“Please, Dee, please, more,” she pleaded. That one little word snapped something inside him. He pushed a third finger inside her and latched onto her clit, sucking and licking. He was rougher than he ever planned to be with her, but she moaned his name over and over between begging him not to stop.

He had no idea how many times she came when it finally crashed around her, one, two, five, but she got impossibly wet and went so very quiet. He just kept licking and fingering her until she whimpered and tugged him away. He kissed the inside of her thigh one last time and wiped the mess on his chin on the bed sheet before he rose back up to look her in the eyes. Her pupils were blown so wide he could barely see the green of her irises and she had a satisfied smile. She kissed him and if the taste of herself on his lips bothered her, she didn’t show it.

“How’re you doing?” he asked softly.

“Fantastic,” she answered, despite the aftershocks running through her. Her hands came up to his shoulder and she drew her touch down his arms. “Still want to feel your cock inside me.”

Deacon looked away from her eyes. Atom knew, he wanted to just give in and take her, but it required an intimacy that was earth shattering for him. Her hands came away and he knew should wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled away right now. She, Nora, was perfect, so, so perfect.

“You’re not too sore?” he asked. He didn’t look her in the eye, he couldn’t, but he leaned his head down to kiss along her neck. He reached down to unzip his jeans.

“Definitely not too sore,” she agreed quickly. She pulled him free, the skin on skin contact was enough to pause his kisses. He let out a hiss, his self control fading as she lined up his cock with the very core of her. He couldn’t stop his hips from snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. He tried to keep kissing her, but his attention was entirely on how good she felt, so wet, so warm, so tight. He thrust into her, unable to stop or slow down. Just as he suspected, it wasn’t long until the pressure coiling in his gut was too much. Alarm bells in his head somehow overrode the haze of her and, just barely, he pulled out.

“Nora.” Her name tumbled off his lips as he spilled over her lower abdomen. For a few minutes, he didn’t even care about the mess he’d made, but when reality set back in, it set in hard. He dared one last light kiss to her temple and got up from the bed.

Deacon tossed Charmer one of the hand towels that only Charmer would prioritize cleaning ever so she could clean herself up before he righted himself back into his jeans and found his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to leave, right,” Charmer said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “You could stay for the night.” He considered her offer for a moment. It wasn't like they hadn't cuddled for warmth while out on their adventures, but this was an entirely different beast. He had never stayed in her room in settlements, and especially not in her real bedroom in Sanctuary. The last tiny bit of reality he didn’t want to think about hit him full force. He’d just fucked his best friend in the bedroom she had shared with her late husband. Worse, he wanted to stay and cuddle even still. He loved her, and her invitation to stay was exactly what he wanted, but it was way too much.

“I can't. I have to,” he paused, unable to form the correct words. “I need-” he tried and failed again when no words came smoothly.

“Space?” she finished for him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It amazed him every time, just how perfect she was for him. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she was sitting up with her knees hugged to her chest.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Emotional junk is tough for me. I'm sorry.” And for once, he was actually sorry.

“I understand. I'll be here when you're ready,” she said. She paused and bit her lip for a brief moment. “If it's not too much, I just want to say I don't want this isn’t to be a one time thing. It’s okay if you do, you should know that I l- well, I care about you a lot.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. Charmer had caught him off guard with her almost declaration. Obviously she liked him, at least physically, but he never expected, it never occurred to him that she could possibly love him too. She didn’t even flinch at his attempt to cut the conversation short. She just smiled at him.

“Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?”

He tried not to feel awkward as he left. Reality had completely crashed back down around him and he had to come to terms with what he'd just done. The worst part was that he didn't regret it, didn't feel bad about it. He hated himself for not feeling bad, though, and that was something familiar and easily understood. The party in Sanctuary had wound down in the time he’d spent at Charmer’s house, and no one stopped him as he walked around the inner edge of the river. When one lap didn’t clear his head, he did another, and another. He knew he needed to get away for awhile to do any sort of good.

It was another reason to hate himself, but he needed it and Charmer would understand. She always understood. He went back to her house, his pack would be there, sitting on her kitchen table. She didn't call out from her bedroom, so chances were that she had fallen asleep. Between his and her packs he found a pen and a usable piece of paper. The very least he could do was leave a note. 

Charm-  
Sorry I couldn't be here in the morning. I need some time to say goodbye to Barbara for real. And I don't want to be a one night stand either.  
-Dee

\-----

It hadn’t been hard to figure out where Nora had gone off to when she and Deacon happened to disappear at the same time, though MacCready had known she would sneak off eventually when she casually asked if he wouldn’t mind having Shaun for a night over with Duncan. He had been happy to take care of the boys, of course. He certainly wasn’t going to stand in the way, not after watching her pine after Deacon for months. She deserved a night of worry-free fun, even if he didn’t particularly care for her choice in men, and he was content with planning on teasing them both mercilessly when they finally surfaced in the morning.

Except, they didn’t surface. Nora usually had Codsworth make breakfast in her own kitchen, rather than visit the marketplace for the community meal, so he hadn't been worried at first but noon rolled around and he hadn’t seen either of them. Shaun was still distracted by whatever game he and Duncan had made up to play with Dogmeat, but MacCready knew it would be a matter of time before Shaun would ask after his mom. 

MacCready didn’t bother knocking when he opened the door to Nora's house. He never needed to before, and if he interrupted her and Deacon in the middle of something it was their own fault for cocooning themselves away for so long without fair warning. He didn't hear sex noises coming from her bedroom, though, so he figured that wouldn't matter anyway. He shut the front door behind him with a click. Quicker than he expected, Nora reacted to the noise. First calling out from her bedroom as she came into the hallway.

“Oh good, you're-” she stopped when she stepped into the living room and saw him. Her face fell into a disappointed frown. “Oh, you, it's you, RJ.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” he commented dryly. Still, though, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, like seriously wrong. Nora hadn't changed out of her flannel pajamas and her hair was still disheveled like she had only just rolled out of bed. He could chalk that up to whatever fun she and her spy had the night before. There were a couple of purple marks on her neck, so she and Deacon had done something together after they left the party, but something about the way Nora wilted when he wasn't who she hoped he was had left him worried.

“I'm sorry. I was just expecting-” she trailed off, a frown settled over her face.

“Deacon?” he finished for her and she nodded. “Where'd he go anyways? I expected to find you two inseparable this morning.”

Her eyes got a faraway look and he regretted asking the way he did. She crossed to her kitchen table and picked up a piece of paper from the table.

“He left a note while I was asleep,” she explained. “I guess he has some emotional stuff to work through. He says he'll be back but-” Nora stopped herself. She looked too scared to admit out loud Deacon may never come back, despite that being a distinct possibility.

”Why don't you get dressed,” he suggested. “Come outside and spend some time with your favorite guy.”

“Mac,” she started with a drawn-out sigh. “ You know we’re not-”

“I meant your son, Nora.”

All at once, Nora’s whole demeanor shifted entirely. She stood up straighter and smiled a bright, sunny grin. A few months ago, her reaction might have stung, but in the time she took to get to know her, he’d put her solidly in the family category. Even if Nora hadn’t been obviously smitten with Deacon, she just felt like one of the brats he grew up with in Little Lamplight. At this point, she was as good as his sister, and he really liked watching the smile that broke out on her face as she lit up at the mention of Shaun.

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” she agreed. She didn’t put down the note still in her hand, but she turned to go back into her bedroom but stopped in the hallways and half-turned back to him. “Thanks, Mac. I’m sorry I’ve been caught up in my own head today. You’re a good friend. Really, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He brushed off the compliment and pushed her towards her bedroom again to get her moving. Distracting her would only work in the short term. There was a huge possibility that they would never see Deacon again, and it wouldn’t take long for Nora to get worried about his absence. In a few weeks, they would have to go see if her friends at the Railroad had seen him. That would be difficult for her, and he’d help the best that he could. In the meantime, he just needed to keep her moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo that ending, right? I'm actually really nervous about posting this since it's been a labor of love for several weeks and this is my first published forray into the Fallout fandom. I'm still working on the second (and probably last?) chapter, but I definitely have things plotted out already.


	2. In Which Deacon Feel Another, Worse Emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd like to thank my good friend Jabs for helping me, because otherwise this chapter would have been in development hell for another two weeks.
> 
> I decided to change around one of the ways i had written this chapter, and that meant putting events in chronological order. If you are coming back to this fic because you saw the update, because you previously read the first chapter, I would recommend going back to reread that one first. There's some new bits at the end, after the smut.

Two Months Later

Deacon loved Nora. He’d known it for a long time, and he was mostly ready to tell her. It wasn't ideal, she could hate him after he bailed, probably did, but he could finally be open with her. In his mind, though, he could make some suave speech and use the l word and she would jump back into his arms and they could start a life together. So when he heard that the General had made an appearance in Goodneighbor, he didn't even check-in at HQ like he normally would after an extended absence. He went straight to the Third Rail. 

It was just barely dark when he finally made it to the gates, dark enough to switch to his drifter disguise before he slipped past Ham. As luck would have it, Nora was still in town. She had a bottle of Nuka Dark in her hand and, by the empties on the table in front of her, it clearly wasn't her first. She was having a jovial conversation with MacCready, sat across from her. Deacon hadn't planned exactly how he would start a conversation with her, let alone how he would dodge the proverbial wrench that was her very protective bodyguard, so Deacon ordered a glass of bourbon and waited.

He didn't mean to watch her like he used to back before she followed the freedom trail, but once he sat at a nearby, but far enough away, table he found it difficult to look away from her. She was as beautiful, of course, but there was this sort of magnetic quality Nora had that just drew eyes to her. He suspected it was why Preston had made her General when he had only known her for a few days. She inspired people.

She was a light, and he was a moth. She was a ray of light to the world and the light in his life that he strove so hard to deserve. He’d worked so hard to get past all of his issues so that he did deserve her. He was sure he still didn’t, but he had hope, somewhere deep down, that she thought he did. That was what mattered. Nora was what mattered.

He watched her put her drink down and decide to get up and dance when the ghoul band swung into a higher energy number. He watched her drag a reluctant MacCready to his feet with her. He watched her laugh and smile, though he hated MacCready's hands on her waist. He watched Nora draw her hands up MacCready's arms and it occurred to Deacon for the first time that, perhaps, he had taken too long. In the time he took away, Nora has decided not to wait for him. She had moved on with her life, and he was left without her light, standing in the middle of the road, alone and in the dark. Just like that, all the work he had done over the last few months just crumbled. His heart jolted when he heard a small peal of her laughter over the music and ached as he watched MacCready lead Nora towards the exit. It hurt, but he loved Nora. If that's what made her smile, if MacCready is what made her happy, then he’d let her have it. He wouldn’t be the wrecking ball to whatever life she’d built in his absence. 

She didn’t deserve that. 

He drained the last of his drink and left more than enough caps for Charlie to be happy. He headed out of the Third Rail and towards the gate. He didn't bother changing from his drifter camo. He didn’t even care if he was recognizable anymore. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, so he just picked a direction and started walking.

\-----

Nora had been glum for too long. She hadn’t smiled in weeks, hadn’t laughed since they left Sanctuary. They had been away from the kids for too long for MacCready’s liking, but they needed to do this. When no one at the Old North Church had seen or heard from Deacon, MacCready and Nora visited all of his old hideouts, plus University Point. She refused to explain why that would be a place Deacon might be, but it didn’t matter in the long run, not really. He wasn’t there, or at any of the hideouts, she could think of. No one they talked to, agents, tourists, settlers had seen Deacon and he hadn’t left any dead drops for a long good while. They had run around the entire Commonwealth for the last month, and they had nothing to show for it. When they were stopped in Goodneighbor for the night, Nora just sank onto the bed with a blank stare and he just needed to do something, anything, to get her to smile again.

“Come on, let’s take a break and get a drink at the Third Rail,” he suggested. The empty look in her eyes when she turned to look at him nearly killed him, broke his heart right in two. She just looked dead inside and it killed MacCready. 

Honestly, if Deacon wasn’t dead, Mac was gonna strangle him. Or shoot him. He hadn’t quite decided yet.

“I don’t know, Mac. That sounds nice, but I don’t think I can relax right now,” she said. “Deacon’s still out there somewhere, and I don’t know if he’s really dead like Des thinks. And I’ve been away from Shaun and Sanctuary for too long. I can’t really afford to just stop and-” She spoke faster and more frantic the longer she had to dwell.

“Stop, Nora,” he ordered, and she did. Panic had replaced the blank look, but it wasn’t really any better. “What’s the next place we have to be? Our next obligation.”

“I told Des I wanted to be at HQ tomorrow to cross off Deacon’s name from the board,” she said. “So HQ tomorrow afternoon. But after that-”

Good. There wasn’t really anything that would hold them back. He just needed to convince her of that.

“Then I’m going to the Third Rail for a drink. Would you like to join me?”

She frowned but nodded. It had been a long time since they’d had time to just have a drink at the bar. Before they stormed the Institute, their days were full of missions and plans on how to stop the Institute. After, they had their respective sons to take care of. Having Duncan and Shaun back was more than worth a couple of nights at the bar, but right now Nora needed a night off more than she probably realized.

She actually perked up a little when Ham greeted them at the door.

“Good evening, Miss Nora. It’s good to see you again,” Ham said when she stepped through the gate. She even flashed the ghoul a smile. He just nodded at MacCready, but that didn’t bother him one little bit.

“I’m going to go get my drink. Would you like anything?” MacCready asked when they had claimed a table not far from the stage where Magnolia sang.

“Can you get me a Nuka-Dark, please?” she asked quiet as a church mouse.

Charlie was too busy with the evening crowd that had gathered to give him more attention than it took to accept his caps. By the time he got back to their table, Nora was looking at the stage with a soft smile on her face. That did good things for his heart. It had been too long since he’d seen her smile proper, and longer still since the lines of worry had smoothed off her face.

“Do you remember this song?” Nora asked as she accepted the Nuka bottle. Honestly, for as much as he liked Magnolia and her singing, a lot of her songs blended together after the months he spent in the VIP room. A little embarrassed, MacCready just shook his head. “This is the song that Mags was performing when we first met.”

He hadn't noticed, but he wasn't surprised that was a detail Nora would pick up on. She had a knack for holding on to little details like anniversaries, favorite colors, and apparently first songs. An idea hit him and he dug around in his pockets for the pack of cards he carried around with him since his Gunner days.

“Remember what else we did that day?” he asked as he pulled the cards out of their box and started shuffling. He was a little rusty, but that didn’t really matter too much. Her smile grew just a little brighter.

“You're no good at poker. I swept the floor with you every hand we played,” she reminded him, but still, she accepted the hand he dealt her. He wasn't worried about winning, just that she'd keep in good spirits. She won hand after hand, and she had a fair few more drinks than normal. Though considering her normal number of drinks was zero, that wasn't all that difficult. He'd just have to make sure there was water next to the bed for the morning.

At one point while they were having fun, Hancock wandered over and joined them for a hand or two. Nora almost looked like her old self while she and Hancock traded jokes as she swept the floor with both of them. He wasn’t trying all the hard, and he didn’t think Hancock was either. It was worth losing to see Nora grin like a cat that got the cream and gorged on it. Eventually, though, Hancock got pulled away to deal with his normal business and the Third Rail shifted from the more subdued late afternoon into the full swing of the evening when the bar was at its busiest and Mags was the peek of her performance for the night. Nora's attention was drawn more and more to the big band numbers, so MacCready put the cards away and let her listen while she sipped on her last Nuka-Dark.

“I wish we could have musicians like this in Sanctuary,” Nora said. “It'd be so good for the boys to have some culture.”

“That's definitely the whole reason,” MacCready countered with his lopsided grin. She looked over and his grin grew a little wider. “Definitely not because it's something you like.”

That teased a laugh out of her, a soft little thing almost lost to the sounds of the crowd. “Maybe I could convince Hancock to let me borrow them.”

There was a short lull in their conversation where Mags went from a more subdued ballad kind of song into one with more high energy. Nora sat up straighter and put her drink down on the table. She looked resolute like she had decided on something important. 

“This song is my absolute favorite, you have to come dance with me,” she declared and Mac tried to wave her away with little success. She stood there and tugged on his hand a little bit, and he grumbled out excuses. She was vulnerable and sad, despite the happy break from her worries for the night. He didn't want to take advantage and he certainly didn't want to make things worse.

“I'm not sure this is-” he argued, but she pulled him to his feet and dragged him to the dancefloor. He figured if he didn't indulge her, she'd find someone else in the bar who would. It was safer if it was him. She tried to teach him how to do some kind of swing dancing that involved lifting her by the hips, and both of them were a little too drunk to get it right, but she laughed and laughed each time.

“You're really bad at this. Almost as bad as you are at poker,” she teased.

“Because you're so perfect at exactly everything.” he countered, staring at his feet as he tried not to step on her shoes.

“Thanks for noticing.” She paused and looked up into his eyes. He didn't like the look she gave him as she drew a light touch up his arms. He really didn't like that. This was exactly what he was afraid would happen. “You could kiss me, you know.” And there it was, as if right on cue. He knew she didn't mean it. It was the booze talking. He'd have to handle this carefully, or the whole night of relaxation would have been for nothing and a pack of cigarettes.

“I could, but that might get weird. I already told Duncan that you're my sister, so we’d have to give him a talk, and I'm not sure I'm honestly prepared for that.” He hoped bringing up his son might keep her from taking offense to his rejection. He still braced himself, ready to see her cry, but she didn't. She laughed again with a little shake of her head.

“I guess it would be weird,” she agreed as she looked away. She palmed at her face and her shoulders shook with more quiet laughter. “Maybe that's a sign we should get out of here. I must be really drunk if I thought that was a good idea.”

It was his turn to laugh. She was right about that. What mattered was that Nora had her little night of fun before going back to the normal day to day. He made sure they hadn't left anything important at their table before he lead her out the door and up the stairs. They both said goodnight to Ham, and were off into the flickery street lamps of Goodneighbor. He caught Nora as she stumbled off the curb, laughing quietly as she swore at the sidewalk. She hadn't really had that much to drink, but she was a lightweight.

He brought her back to the Rexford and set a can of purified water on the table for when she woke up. There was only one bed in the room and he made sure Nora was tucked under the covers. The bed was big enough for two, and it wasn't like the hadn't shared before on their various adventures around the Commonwealth, but tonight wasn't the night for that. He was happy to take the couch; it also wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before either. He took and unrolled one of their sleeping bags to use as a makeshift blanket and laid down so he could sleep too.

Sleep came quickly, despite the spring in his back. 

The next morning, MacCready woke up way too early, and he wasn’t sure what had woken him at first. The sun streamed through the window, but the sun wasn’t in his eyes. There was no crack of thunder from a radstorm. Everything was quiet. And then he heard retching in the bathroom. It set all his hair on end and a chill into his bones. 

He was up like a flash with that, though he stumbled over the sleeping bag he'd used as a blanket. He was glad he didn't have a weak stomach as he heard another retch.

"Nora? Are you okay?" he called out as he disentangled himself without falling on his face. She didn't answer him, and possibly hadn't even heard him. He grabbed the can of water, still untouched, from the table and went into the bathroom. Nora was on the ground, leaning over the half-broken toilet. He hadn’t thought she had that much to drink the night before, but he hoped it was that, and not something worse she might have picked up while running herself ragged. Nora didn’t answer, she just accepted the can of water from him.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d dealt with Duncan being sick, but that was different. He hovered in the doorway, waiting for the next heave, but she didn’t. She just swished a bit of water in her mouth before spitting it out and then took a deep drink. That was a good sign, he hoped.

“Maybe we should wait a day,” Mac suggested. “If you’re feeling sick, we shouldn’t take a chance with the hike out to HQ.”

“No!” Nora said at once. That, oddly, gave him a lot of relief. She reacted immediately, with the force he would expect from her on a normal day. “I need to be there. It’s important. I’m already feeling better. It was probably just something leftover from last night.”

Mac frowned, but she had already regained a lot of the color in her face, even with just a bit of water. “If you’re sure,” he relented, “but I want the doc down there to take a look at you.”

“Mac, I’m sure it’s nothing-”

“Then we can have the doc say it’s nothing,” he said. She didn't argue again, but she pouted. It would have been almost adorable if Mac wasn't so worried. He made sure she drank all her water and helped her up. She moved slower than normal, but that could be the hangover, the depression, or being sick. It was impossible to tell. 

They stopped at Daisy's for breakfast and it really didn’t help Nora’s case that she was well when she asked for something absolutely disgusting.

“You wouldn’t happen to have, like, a jar of pickles?” Nora asked. MacCready wrinkled his nose at the thought. Pickles were the one thing they could make in Little Lamplight after Joseph and Eclair found a book on how to do it. The book had said to use a vegetable no trader that came through had ever heard of, so they used mutfruit when they could trade for it. Lucy had loved it, but MacCready thought they were worse than the fungus. God even just thinking about it he could remember the smell, the taste, and lord he was going to be sick. He shook his head and stuck his tongue out, trying to banish the memory from his head.

“Sorry, Nora, but cucumbers pretty much don’t exist anymore, not for at least a hundred years,” Daisy said. “There a woman out in Diamond City that makes pickles, but they’re not what you’re expecting.”

He figured that when they were done with Nora’s Railroad errand, she would probably want to swing around to Diamond City next. It would be one more stop before they made it home, but he supposed he could manage it as long as she didn’t ask him to try her nasty pickles. Instead of the pickles she wanted, Nora got more snack cakes he’d ever seen her buy at one time. He gave her an odd look as he mentally questioned her sanity. He was smart enough not to say anything out loud though. 

"What? They're good hangover food," she said when she caught him staring. He just shook his head and didn't say anything. They really weren't a good hangover food, salt and protein were good for that, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to upset her today. They left town and headed north towards the Old North Church.

Nora seemed better. There was more color in her cheeks and she didn't seem as miserable. Maybe he was worried about nothing and that morning was a fluke. At least, that was what he hoped. It wasn’t that long of a walk, considering how long they had been on the road, but he was glad when they slipped in the back way like they always did. He knew Nora was still torn up about it all, but this could mean they could go back to the normal, quiet life Nora had wanted when she put in all the work to get rid of the Institute.

MacCready felt out of place, while a very solemn Nora exchanged a few words with the Railroad leader and an agent with a side shave. He stood towards the back of the basement and lit a cigarette while he waited. It wasn’t some big ceremony, she just crossed Deacon’s name off a chalkboard tucked into one corner. It felt anti-climatic to him, but she needed this kind of closure. He still wasn’t sure Deacon was actually dead, but he was fairly certain they would never see him again regardless.

“Ready to go?” Nora asked when she had finished. She didn’t pout or cry, instead, it was like all emotions were just drained out of her.

“Hold up, I still want the doc to take a look at you,” he said. Nora started to protest, but the doctor that patched up the agents down here had been close enough to hear.

“What’s wrong with you this time?” the older man said. He had already pulled out a stethoscope and forced Nora to stay still for him.

“It’s nothing. I just drank too much last night and got sick this morning,” she said. “It’s to be expected after that.”

“Well, we’ll see,” the doctor said. Nora pouted, but MacCready was glad to see the doctor take his concerns seriously. The last thing he wanted was for Nora to get sick because of their weeks on the road. It was stressful, and that level of stress could make anyone vulnerable to illness. The doc made Nora sit on a nearby chair while he took a blood sample. She insisted she was fine, but sat still while the doc took the blood and did whatever science-y tests he had to do.

After a little bit, the doc looked over at Nora from the chemistry station he had along one wall.

“Well, the good news is that you aren’t sick,” the doctor said. “At least not in the classical sense of the word. You are, however, pregnant.”

That had MacCready’s attention. He glanced between Nora and the Railroad doctor. Nora shook her head.

“That’s impossible. I haven’t-” Nora started. She froze in the middle of her sentence and what color she had regained since that morning drained out of her face all at once. MacCready was glad he didn’t have to remind her she had, in fact, slept with Deacon recently enough. That was not a conversation he wanted to have with her. “That’s impossible. He’d didn’t-” She stopped again and glanced down at the floor. She looked like she was going to cry and MacCready knew he needed to step in a do something, anything, to help. He wasn’t exactly good with tears, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t managed before. The doctor had the good sense to realize Nora needed time and space to come to terms with the news. MacCready took the two steps over to where she still sat in the chair the doc had put her in.

“Hey,” he said as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Nora looked up at him. Tears already threatened to spill as they shimmered at the edges of her eyes. “It’ll be alright.”

“I- I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said. “Deacon is- was the only one. He has to be the- the-” Her words got more and more shaky as she talked and single tears spilled over. MacCready tried not to panic. He knew this feeling too well. Duncan hadn’t exactly been planned and, even though he loved his son dearly, it had been a shock when they found out. He knelt down so he was roughly eye level with Nora.

“I told you, it’ll be alright. First thing first,” he started. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Yes,” she said immediately. “I just- I’m not sure how-”

“You have at least a dozen friends who would do anything for you, Nor,” he reminded her. “You just gotta let them help you, and you’ll be able to handle it.” She looked at him without actually looking at him for a long moment. He wasn’t even sure she had heard what he said, but he’d say it as many times as she needed to until she understood that she wasn’t alone. He couldn’t hear her thoughts, but he could practically see the spiral of thoughts on her face.

“Hey,” he said again. Her eyes focused once more and the sad look in her eyes nearly broke his heart. In a twisted way, he hoped Deacon actually was dead. If Deacon ever showed his face again, MacCready wasn’t sure he could be responsible for his actions. “I think it’s time to head home. I miss the boys.” Her eyes softened, the same way they always did when she thought about her son. That was a good sign. She wasn’t too sad to find even a little joy in her favorite boy.

“That sounds good. I’m ready to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know the pull out method has an 18% failure rate? Deacon sure as hell doesn't.


End file.
